Staple it Back Together
by TheMightyKoosh
Summary: It's been a year and a half since the war ended and Harry has completely excluded himself. But then he's contacted by Dudley, who has a daughter that strange things happen around. But then Harry is caught by Malfoy and things take a turn for the worse. AU
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Welcome to Staple it Back Together; I think I got the title form a song, so I don't own that, but I don't remember the song.

I started writing this about a year ago, so I already have a number of chapters finished, but it was a busy year, so it's not as many as I'm probably making it sound, so I'll be updating each time I write a new chapter, as is to be expected, but don't expect miracles, I don't update regularly, it depends how much work I've had to do and so how much I get done. But then it's the same with more folks :P

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to J., Warner Brothers and Bloomsbury.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Chapter One<p>

Harry sighed heavily as he shut the door to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The screeching of Misses Black pierced through the tired fog of his mind and he sighed heavily, wishing that he knew how to get rid of the damned portrait. He turned around to face the ghosts that filled the building; the house was dark and dingy, dusty with age, more so than dirt. He hated this place, but he remained living there anyway, had done for the past year and a half, since the end of the war. He wasn't there very often, he spent most of his time at work, even choosing to stay in the office if he was on call, to be on hand to help, so he only really ever slept there, and even then only three days of the week, on average. But it was still were he had to return, when he had nowhere else to be, and he very rarely did have anywhere else to be.

Tiredly he trudged up the stairs and to his room; the same room that he had shared with Ron when they had all been staying at Headquarters together, it had not been changed in the slightest since that time, right down to the two twin beds, each pushed against a wall. His old Hogwarts trunk was at the end of the bed that he slept in and in the wardrobe to the side of the door, at the foot of what he still thought of as Ron's bed, were hanging only his Auror robes, to keep them neat, or as neat as he possibly could, for work. With a _flump_ he dropped onto the edge of the bed and began to shuffle out of his heavy duty, protective robes; he was interrupted, however, by a shrill ringing, almost as painful as the screeching of the portrait at the bottom of the stairs. For the longest of times he was confused, wondering if he was so tired that he was beginning to hear things. That is, before he realised that it was the telephone he had managed to install, in case of emergencies. He frowned, confused, wondering who could possibly be phoning him; it was the first time that anybody had contacted him this way, other than the insident back at the Dursley's when he'd had that disastrous call from Ron, he remembered with a flash of pain.

With all the energy that he could muster, Harry leaped to his feet and stumbled from the room and down the stairs, to the small side table that he had placed by the front door, on the other side to the vile portrait.

"Hello?" He asked, almost dropping the phone in his haste, his seeker-like reflexes enabling him to grab the cord of the phone before it could hit the ground and pressing the phone to his ear, all in one swift movement.

"H-Harry?" a voice, quivering and nervous, responded. Harry frowned, he recognised that voice, but never before had he ever expected to hear it again, let alone for them to be the one to contact him.

"Dudley?" he couldn't help the incredulity that oozed into his voice. Even more unexpected was the worry that seeped through his veins "Is something wrong?"

On the other end of the line, Dudley's breath hitched, as if he were trying not to cry. "Dudley?" He asked, a little louder this time, by now beginning to seriously panic.

""I need to talk to you Harry. I know that this is a big ask, and that it's late and all, but I really need to talk to you." He garbled. Harry looked at the simple watch he wore, it was ten-thirty, he had not even been aware of the time before that, he was used to being awake and sleeping at unusual times.

"Sure, Dud', sure. Just tell me where you want me to be." He said, exhaling his breath.

"The Red Lion, in Dorking, it's about half-an-hour east of Little Winging." He said.

"Sure thing, Dud, I'll be there as quick as I can." He said, and hung up the phone.

He sighed heavily, so much for a long sleep before having to get up for work tomorrow. He slipped back upstairs in order to change into his muggle clothing, thinking that there was no need to antagonise his cousin. He carefully hung his Auror robe on a hanger, they were expensive and he did not want to damage them and need a new set and began unbuttoning his shirt one handed. The shoulder of his left arm was aching, a stinging hex had caught him before he was able to apprehend the criminal, a fanatic follower of Voldemort, one of his lesser minions before the man's demise, that had managed to evade them for a week; he had worked non-stop for a week, and Robards had told him to take the day off, but he had declined, not wanting a reason to be at Grimmauld Place. That didn't exactly stop the throbbing in his arm though. His white undershirt was caked in blood, dry and crispy, crackling as he balled the clothing up and threw into the corner, but he managed to get out of it, and pull on a faded green t-shirt.

Although Harry was reluctant to do anything but sleep at this moment in time, he nonetheless felt that he could stand a little straighter once out of Grimmauld Place and let out a small sigh of relief when the door was shut and locked behind him. He walked briskly down the street, broom in hand, until he was at point that he knew to be safe to apparate from. He apparated to Little Winging, to Surrey, his childhood home. Mounting his Firebolt he pushed off and exalted in the exhilarating feeling of the wind ruffling his overgrown hair. Tilting his body he directed his body towards the east and settled in to cruising towards a town that he had never before visited. Each time he saw a cluster of lights from his vantage point Harry would swoop down and follow the road until he saw the _Welcome_ sign for whatever settlement he was approaching before continuing until eventually, after thirty-five minutes, just as Dudley had said, he saw a sign that said _Welcome to Dorking_.

Nimbly, he hopped off his broom and shrunk it down to an inch, which he then tucked into the wallet that he kept in his pocket and began the, what he hoped would be short, walk into the town. The road in was a simple two-lane A-road, with a ditch at the edges and a hedge-row after that; there were no street lamps along the stretch of road and Harry felt as if he was being swallowed by the darkness, but he was used to the darkness and, although he had atrocious vision, the darkness had never bothered him, and like a sixth sense, as he always had, he knew where objects were, he thought that this was a benefit of chronic blindness, but it certainly had a benefit in his line of work.

A pool of warm orange light landed on his face, looking up Harry realised that he was at the town, having reached the first lamp-post, there was one every few meters, their beams illuminating the ground for a couple of feet before again being submerged by the gloom. A row of brick cottages lined the edge of the road, passed them was a mishmash of houses, all of different styles and times, like a quick trip through time. He walked for ten minutes through the town, taking a left when he met what he thought to be the main high street through Dorking. Although it was only eleven o'clock the town was empty.

A man in a pair of faded denim jeans and a white shirt, top button undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, turned the corner; Harry hurried over to him, hoping he could give him directions, as he had no idea where it was that he was going.

"Excuse me, you couldn't tell me where _The Red Lion_ is, could you?" He asked, smiling in what he hoped to be an unthreatening manner.

"Sure." The man said, brushing his over-grown fringe out of his eyes and pointed behind him "Just follow the road, take the first right, it's on your left then, you can't miss it."

"Thanks." Harry said, and hurried off in the direction that he had been heading in.

_The Red Lion Inn _looked exactly the same as all other local pubs blanketing the nation. It was obviously an old building, probably an old cottage, the façade white washed and the roof polished slate, glittering in the light of the street lamp positioned on the pavement in front. There was a large bay window to either side of the door, which was positioned in the centre of building. The door was small, and a step down from the curb, a small frosted window set about head level.

The pub beyond the door was dimly lit, illuminated only by a couple of wall mounted lights, casting the room in a warm, orange glow; the air was smoky and tinged with the scent of cigarettes and beer. There were a handful of dark wood tables dotted around the room, little islands that the patrons had to weave in and out of, intimate booths lined the edges. It reminded Harry of _The Three Broomsticks_, the similarities both comforting in their familiarity and like a punch to the gut as he remembered a happier time. Ahead of him was a bar, its counter stretching right across the length of the establishment. It was at this bar that Dudley was sat.

He slid into the seat beside his cousin. "Hey Dud'" he whispered, unwilling to break the hush of the near empty pub.

He jumped, startled, having not heard the soft-footed Harry. "Hey Har'" he replied, his voice equally soft.

Harry couldn't help but be shocked; this was not the same Dudley that he had left behind two and a half years ago. While he was still large, it was the broad shoulders of a rugby player, he had lost weight on his face and much of the tyre that he carried around his middle. But more than that, there was a softness that hadn't been there before, a gentleness about the eyes.

Harry felt a twitch in his arm. "Listen, can we move?" Dudley frowned at him slightly, but it was lacking the usual vicious bite that he remembered, was simply confused. "Just over there," he said, gesturing vaguely, "To one of those booths."

Dudley didn't respond, but picked up the glass that he held before him and stood. Gratefully, Harry slipped into one of the booths, sitting so that his back was to the back wall of the pub, one eye could see the door that led to both the toilets and the rest of the pub and the rest of his attention was focused on the front door. He sat perched on the edge of the bench, body angled so that he could slip out easily. Ok, so he was a little bit paranoid. _Constant vigilance_, a voice in the back of his head growled.

Once Harry was assured that there were no threats within the immediate vicinity he turned his attention to the cousin that he had not seen in over two years. Dudley was watching him intently, head cocked to one side.

"So what exactly is the problem, Dud?" Harry asked tiredly; he had only finished work an hour and a half ago and had spent the past week hunting down one of Voldemort's fanatics; he was exhausted, his arm ached and he wanted to sleep; for a month.

"Well..you see…" Dudley kept trailing off, as if unsure of what to say, in a very uncharacteristic manner. His hands, which were resting on the table, he was wringing together nervously.

"Just start at the beginning, Dud." He said softly.

Dudley looked down, staring into the depths of his pint, his attention lost somewhere in the depths of the amber liquid. Heavily lines marred his forehead as he frowned deeply. Harry didn't say anything, he hadn't gotten this far in life without learning how to read people; if he pushed Dudley now, then he would clam up for sure, it was like dealing with a particularly skittish horse, too much too soon and he would shy away, but be patient and gentle, and he would tell Harry what was bothering him.

Five minutes passed, but Harry had also learnt patience, staking out the enemy, and this was really no different.

"I've got a kid." Dudley suddenly blurted out, before his eyes widened in surprise, as if he hadn't quite expected to tell Harry that, even though it had been him to initiate the contact and it was obvious that it had something to do with this child.

"Congratulations." His cousin smiled goofily, his eyes twinkling with barely supressed happiness, glowing with affection.

Harry said nothing else, choosing instead to wait him out.

"Pippa." He said instead, "She's eighteen months."

They drifted into silence again. Harry took a sip of his lemonade, the glass silent when he returned it to its place on the table.

"Last week," Dudley began, after working his jaw a few times "Pip had been crying, but by the time I got to her, she had already stopped and the bottle was in her hands. I know that I left it on the other side of the room and she was in her playpen, she can't get out."

Harry felt his eyes widen; he could remember Remus telling him that he had done that a lot as a baby.

"I tried to ignore it but it happened again." His voice had dropped to a whisper.

"You know what this means, right Dud?" He asked softly.

Dudley nodded jerkily "I'm scared Harry. And I don't know what to do."

Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the boy that had made his life a hell when they were children; he was, after all, a product of his upbringing, as much as Harry was of his.

* * *

><p>See you next time guys, Koosh.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to the people who favorited/alerted this. And thank you to rheana, who reviewed.

Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

"Why did you contact me?" Harry asked, he intended to say it softly, but it came out sounding harsher than he meant.

"Well, I don't exactly know anybody else that can do m-" he bit the word off with a gurgle, as if he were choking on it.

"Say it." Harry said, his hands clenched around the edge of the table "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

There was a tense moment; Dudley worked his jaw open and closed, much like a landed fish, he swallowed and clenched and unclenched his fists "Magic." He finally said, his voice barely even a whisper.

Harry smiled at him, just the corners of his lips quirking, really, before he sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "What do you want me to do, Dud?"

"I don't want to be afraid any more."

Harry stared at the table, tracing the whorls in the wood with one finger. "Is there a cupboard?" He asked softly; it was hard, but he knew that it had to be done.

The sound of smashing glass made Harry jerk his head up. Dudley had frozen, jaw clenched, right hand hovering half way to his mouth. The glass lay, shattered, on the table where he had dropped it.

"God Harry." He gasped. "No; I'd never…no." Harry could tell from the anguish as he choked out the words that his cousin meant it. He loved his daughter; like the Dursley's had never loved him. "Not Pip."

Harry twitched his arm and his wand slid down to his hand. A few muttered words and a privacy shield had been cast around them; nobody would see or hear anything untoward, just the image of two cousins talking. _"Reparo." _Harry said, loud enough that Dudley could hear, the twirl of his wand precise for his benefit. The fragments of glass sprang back together, the fibres re-knitting until the damaged object was whole once again.

Dudley looked shocked and pale faced, but he wasn't shaking, so that was a good thing.

"See, magic can be used for good things. Now we don't have to pay to replace the glass."

Dudley smiled; it was watery, and disappeared quickly, but it was a smile nonetheless. Thinking of Ron on their first ride of The Hogwarts Express, he changed the glass to green. Then, with a _Swish and Flick_, and a _Wingardium Leviosa_, the thought of Hermione making him want to squirm in his seat, he levitated the glass above the table.

"See Dudley, there's nothing wrong with magic." His cousin nodded shakily. "I'm proud of you." The words tasted acidic in his mouth, after all, nobody had ever uttered them to him, but he knew that sometimes you just needed encouragement.

Harry looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost one in the morning. "Look, how about you go home and get some sleep; I've got the day off tomorrow, it's Saturday, I'll see you again then."

Dudley nodded tiredly.

* * *

><p>Back at Grimmauld Place Harry threw a handful of floo powder into the fire that he had built in the grate there. "Auror Department Head Office, Ministry of Magic." He shouted and pushed his head into the green flames.<p>

He had to wait a minute before legs came into view and then a head tilted into his field of vision. "Harry?" Gawain Robards' gruff voice asked. He heaved a sigh of relief that it was Robards doing office hours. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah. I was just wondering if I could have the day off tomorrow?"

"Of course." Harry could see the relief in the man's eyes; he was always telling him that he worked too hard. He nodded once in thanks and pulled his head out of the fireplace.

* * *

><p>Harry woke up only a few hours later to a strangled cry bubbling from his lips. The final battle continued to rage on in his head even once he was awake; the image of the sightless eyes of his friends staring at him in the cold, dark night. Staring at the ceiling for a while, he waited for his heartbeat to slow down at least a tad. Tiredly, he shuffled out of bed to shower, having been too tired to do so the night before. It felt good, the warm water splashing down his back and washing the caked on blood of his pale skin. The gash on his arm was long and the raised edges, which were a raw red, was inflamed and hot to the touch.<p>

Stomach rumbling, he went to his kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulders. The kitchen was situated in one of the first floor rooms that had been unused when the Order had used the building. He had had it put in place immediately upon return to Grimmauld Place and so shuffled through life using only these three rooms. He ambled through the morning tensely, ate some cereal and toast for breakfast, tidied the three rooms and eventually, at seven, left London for Surrey.

He sat on a picnic bench outside of _The Red Lion_, a glass of lemonade on the table before him. He'd been sat there for almost an hour before Dudley trudged up to him, his hands plunged into the depths of his pockets.

"Hi Harry." He said with a small smile. "Thanks for coming again."

"No problem." There was an awkward silence for a while; Dudley stared at the dusty floor, Harry the bottom of his drink. "Let's go for a walk."

They ambled along slowly. Harry took a deep breath and did something that he had never expected to do; it was significantly harder than he had thought it would be. "Here, hold my wand." He flipped the stick of wood over in his hand, so that he was holding the tip and the handle was offered out to his cousin. Dudley looked at it with wide eyes before a shaking hand stretched out, grasping it.

Harry held his breath. He didn't know what he was expecting but there were no fireworks, no sparks, and no bunch of flowers sprouting from the tip. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Dudley looked at him and the fear had gone.

"Magic." He said and the word was not a whisper. The wand was suddenly thrust back into Harry's hand and the fear was back in place. But for a moment, just a short one, it had gone and so Harry knew that it could go forever.

"You should come and meet my family." Dudley said. He was shocked when he saw Harry's already pale face blanch drastically. "It's ok, it's not mum and dad; they kind of kicked me out when Yvonne got pregnant, you know, we were teenagers and unmarried, it just didn't fit in with their perfect picture of life." Harry could sense just a note of bitterness, but far less than was to be expected. But when he continued speaking, it was with a burning passion. "Anyway, the Addison's are not at all like mum and dad were. The house is full of laughter and love. I've changed there, I really have."

That didn't convince Harry any, it sounded too much like the Dursley's. "I don't know, Dud." It was just too painful and he knew it.

"Please Harry. At some point I'm gonna have to tell them about all of this and I don't want to do it on my own. It would be a lot easier if you had at least met them."

Harry sighed; he couldn't resist the pleading note in his voice. He took a deep breath, grabbed his Gryffindor courage by the horns and nodded jerkily. Dudley led him through the winding streets of Dorking until they were stood in front of what was obviously Dudley's home. It was a large cottage with a front door painted bright red and a front garden whose flowers tumbled onto the street. As Dudley unlatched the little wooden gate that led to a short, winding path, Harry paused.

"Come on Harry." Dudley said and he was more confident then he'd been once in the past two days. "They don't bite."

Smiling shakily, knowing that he didn't mean it, Harry followed Dudley up the garden path to the front door.

"I'm home!" He called. A woman who looked to be about fifty, with greying mousy brown hair came through a door, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Hello Dudley dear." She said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. "oh," she said, stopping in her tracks "and who might this be?"

"This is my cousin. Harry." Nervously Harry stretched his hand out. The woman just laughed and gathered him into a hug.

"Well, any family of Dudley is family of mine." Pulling away she looked at him shrewdly, "Boy, you need fattening up."

Harry shivered, he couldn't help it, she sounded far too much like Molly Weasley.

"But look at us, stood in the doorway. Come in, come in."

Harry shuffled in and closed the door behind him. He followed Dudley through to a cosy sitting room; it had a four seater sofa, a two seater sofa and two armchairs, a fireplace on one wall and a television in the corner. A man with a full head of silver hair sat, reclining, on the sofa.

"Hey Dud'." He said without looking up.

"Hey John, who's winning?" He asked.

"Bolton." The man, John, grumbled.

"Shame." Dudley said, chuckling. "This is my cousin, Harry."

At this the man did look up. He had a kind face; soft blue eyes and a strong nose and jaw that reminded him painfully of Dumbledore. "Why don't you come and sit down." He invited, gesturing to the chairs. Harry perched on the edge, hands squeezed between his knees.

"So you're Dudley's cousin, eh?" Harry nodded mutely in response. "Can't say that I knew Dudley had a cousin. But then he doesn't talk about family much." He smiled sadly. "So which side of the family are you on?"

"His mothers. My mother was her younger sister."

"And were you close growing up?"

"You could say that. I went to boarding school, so we didn't see each other much once I turned eleven."

"Ah, I see."

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"You must be Harry." He turned around to find a young woman in the doorway, Dudley next to her, a toddler in his arms; Harry hadn't even seen him leave the room, which was strange for him. The woman was slender, with brown hair that tumbled over one shoulder and brown eyes that sparkled.

"And you must be Yvonne." She nodded and shook his hand.

"And this is Pippa." Dudley said, jiggling the giggling toddler on his hip.

"I can't believe that over the last two years Dudley didn't mention you." She glared lightly at Dudley, who held his hands up bashfully.

"We, uh, fell out of touch." He scratched the back of his head nervously.

She laughed. "But here you are, out of the blue."

"How about some lunch?" Yvonne's mother, whose name Harry was yet to catch, asked.

"That's alright I…"

"Nonsense." She said, cutting him off before he could protest.

"But –"

"It seemed you misunderstood me; lunch is on the table." She smiled with a steely determination that reminded Harry of Poppy Pomfrey.

There was plate of cheese sandwiches on the big wooden table in the kitchen and a bowl of crisps. "Tuck in everyone."

Harry took a cheese sandwich and a plate and, stood in the corner of the kitchen, began to eat.

"So Harry, what do you do for a living?" Yvonne asked; out of the corner of his eye he saw Dudley freeze.

"I'm a police man." He said.

"Oh yeah; got any stories for us? Caught any really nasty bad guys?" she asked, her eyes glinting in the light.

"You could say that." Harry mumbled cryptically.

As if they could sense that he didn't want to talk about it, the matter was dropped.

Harry stayed for a view hours that day, listening to the Addison family joke back and forth, making fun of each other. He discovered that Yvonne had an older brother, Michael, who had a wife and child, when they dropped in for a cup of tea, and a younger sister, Matilda, who was out at a friend's. By the time he left he was exhausted.

He slept badly that night; he kept seeing the Weasley family, their eyes full of maggots, their faces decomposing, their dead screams filling his ears. They sat around the table in the true kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Sirius, Remus and Tonks joining them, their faces gaunt and grey. He woke up in a cold sweat, the bed covers twisted around his limbs, his breath coming in pained gasps.

He knew that he would never get to sleep again, so he decided to head to work early.

* * *

><p>That night, after Harry had left, Dudley's family discussed the new arrival.<p>

"It was nice to meet Harry." Susan said as the door closed. Dudley nodded, sensing that there was more coming. "He seems sad, though."

"And he didn't say very much." Yvonne added.

"He was always shy." Dudley said frowning, glossing over the truth slightly. His cousin was all sharp lines and jagged edges; brittle and hard at the same time.

"But he seemed so sad."

"I don't know." Dudley said, unsure of what exactly it was that he didn't know.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing here Potter?" Robards asked sharply. "Today is your day off."<p>

"But I had yesterday off." He protested.

"I don't care, you're not scheduled to work today."

"But –"

"No Harry, go home." He watched sadly as the boy, for he was still a boy, flooed home.

* * *

><p>Reviews would be lovely, they help me write, but if not, I hope that you enjoyed it.<p>

Until the next installment, friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay, I've had computer troubles.

Thank you to the people that reviewed the last chapter, it is very much appreciated.

Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

The phone rang again. Harry had been sat on his bed reading one of his old transfiguration text books for something to do when he was disturbed.

"Hey Harry." Dudley's voice drifted down the phone, sounding much happier than he had over the past two days. "We were wondering if you wanted to come over for Sunday lunch?" he asked, sounding nervous, as if he dreaded Harry declining the offer.

"I don't know Dud'." It was just too hard. He didn't want to be at Grimmauld Place, but nor did he want to be reminded of what he had lost.

"Please, I thought that maybe we should tell them about Pip, before something happens."

Harry shut his eyes and sighed. "Sure, I'll be there soon."

* * *

><p>He was once again sat around the massive oaken table in the kitchen of the Addison residence. The whole family was there this time. Susan, as he had learnt her name to be, was placing steaming plates of meat, vegetables and potatoes before them.<p>

"I'm so glad that you could make it today, Harry." She said, smiling at her guest.

"Thank you for having me." He smiled and he thought that at least a small part of him meant it.

As he was pouring gravy over his lunch Dudley spoke. _He never did do subtle_, Harry thought.

"I – We – need to talk to you about Pip."

John raised one eyebrow. "What about her?"

"You know how strange things keep happening…" he waited for the hesitant nods "Well…Harry?"

Not knowing what to say he slipped his wand out of his sleeve. "_Wingardium Leviosa_." A fork floated off the table, hovered for a minute and then clattered back to the table.

Silence stretched on. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Magic is real. I'm a wizard, so was my dad. My mum was a witch but her sister wasn't. I don't know how genetics work, if she carried the gene but…inactive or if it works differently. But Pippa," he looked at the little girl who was watching him with wide eyes, "is a witch."

The silence stretched even further. Then there was nervous laughter. "What?" Yvonne choked.

"I know it sounds strange, but at least you know before she is eleven" he thought of the shock and confusion he felt on his birthday. "There's a school called Hogwarts; it's a boarding school for young magical people, it's great there. I don't know what'll happen if you choose not to send her, I guess she'll just never learn how to use her magic. There's nothing wrong with magic." He said defensively.

He was aware that he was rambling but he didn't know what to say.

"Ok then." John said, taking a bite of chicken." So what does this mean?"

"Nothing. She's the same Pippa and she always will be. At eleven, on September first she'll go to Hogwarts. McGonagall is Headmistress there now; she's nice, I can get her to talk to you if you like."

Yvonne nodded absently.

"What's it like, this magical world?" Matilda asked, her eyes shining.

"I don't know what there is to say." He replied, squirming; he wasn't used to so much attention. At the disappointed look in her eyes he continued. "Hogwarts is a big castle. And in the forest on the grounds there are centaurs and unicorns."

He was cut off by Michael snorting. "Now we know your messing with us."

"No, really, I've met them." He said. "The clothes are kind of silly and old fashioned."

"You said you're a police man." John said frowning; it was obvious that he didn't appreciate being lied to.

"I am. I'm called an Auror." He explained, "We're basically magical law enforcement."

John nodded.

"I know I asked yesterday, but maybe you can answer now." A smile played across Yvonne's lips. "Have you caught any really bad guys."

"There was this one guy." He said, trailing off.

Before he could continue Susan spoke, watching him intently.

"There must be some really dangerous people, with magic on their side."

"No more so than those with guns and bombs in place of magic. It's what people choose to do that creates the evil in the world, not their means of achieving it." He thought of Dumbledore, and something he had once said "It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."

Susan nodded, "I suppose that makes sense."

"Besides, magic offers better protection, too."

"What's magic like?" Matilda asked.

"Warm and tingly." He said, going with his very first experience of magic, that day in Diagon Alley. "And sparkly."

"Sparkly?" Michael said sceptically.

"Yeah, sparkly." Harry waved his wand to create a trail of shimmering red sparkles.

"What did that do?" Dudley asked and Harry sensed a note of worry in his voice.

"Absolutely nothing." Harry said, laughing, "Just made the sparkles."

Dudley nodded. They continued eating, Harry thought that the family was handling this incredibly calmly; they asked a few questions but that was all that was said on the matter.

The dinner was delicious and other than answering the families questions Harry ate in silence, listening to them natter about the week past and that to come. As Susan began to tidy up the dishes Harry stood to help her, staying as the family traipsed out to the sitting room.

"Can't you just magic them clean?" She asked, laughing, as if she didn't quite think that he would be able to.

He shook his head sadly. "You can, but I don't know how." He said. She looked at him incredulously and he shrugged with embarrassment. "Nobody ever taught me, and I never got around to learning them. It's just me at home and I wash all my dishes manually." Domestic magic had been taught in seventh year, and by parents as well, he supposed, and he had missed it; besides, cleaning the muggle way took longer and so worked as a distraction.

"Did they not teach you in school?"

"Hmm, I must have missed that lesson." He focused on the glass and dishcloth in his hand.

"You really don't have to do this you know."

"I don't mind." He said smiling. "You cooked so you shouldn't have to clean too."

"I find it therapeutic, especially after such a big shock."

"Me too." He said softly, not looking up as he moved onto the next utensil.

* * *

><p>When Harry woke up the next morning he thought how strange it was that after a year and a half of solitude he had spent three days on the trot with a large group of people. He knew he wouldn't see them that night, after an unprecedented two days off work it was time to return to the Auror office and the criminals that he knew he would have to deal with and the paperwork that needed to be completed.<p>

"Did you have a nice weekend, Harry?" Robards asked as he stepped out of the floo into the head Auror's office.

"Yes, thank you Sir."

Robards frowned sadly, he was hoping that after a real weekend the tension that constantly filled Harry's back, keeping his shoulders taut, would have begun to fade but if anything it was just reinforced. The boy looked just as tired as he had when he had left work on Friday and that was after a week spent chasing down rogue Death Eaters.

Harry slipped from the office to get started on his paperwork; he really should have done it over the weekend, but after being relegated from the office for two days he had not managed to get started yet. Harry often came to work early, for the same reason that he worked the maximum six days a week, and today was no different. As such, when he entered the main office, which was a maze of cubicles for the aurors to complete paperwork, it was empty. Most of the cubicles had pictures of family and loved ones taped to the edges or in picture frames and randomosities from home but Harry's own was sparse, a handful of quills and ink and a wedge of parchment, nothing more. At a tap of his wand a stack of paperwork appeared on the desk and he dived in, hoping to complete it as quickly as possible.

He had been working for an hour and the office had slowly filled up with his colleges when Robards came in, a frown marring his face.

"Potter." He barked. Harry's head jerked up. "I've just been down to the ward and the medi-witch on duty informed me that you didn't go visit her after that hex you took on Friday." It was a statement, not a question.

Harry just shrugged; it wasn't that bad, just a cut. His boss sighed and rubbed one hand over his face. "Go and see her, Harry, and then go home." He wasn't trying to be mean, but Harry worked too hard and failed to look after himself, frequently opting to put himself in the most dangerous positions and situations, Robards felt that it was a case of tough love.

Harry frowned and shuffled from the room. The Ministry infirmary, intended mostly for the use of the Auror Department, was situated several floors above the level the auror department occupied, and so was closer to ground level. In the lift Harry's hand did genuinely hover over the correct floor but he so hated visits to the infirmary, in fact he hated visits to anybody of the medical profession and so on a split moment decision he instead pressed the button for the atrium. Robards would know if he flooed home from his office; it was not the accepted norm that employers travelled immediately to and from departments, especially not from the auror office, but Harry hated travelling via the Atrium, when he had first started working at the Ministry soon after the defeat of Voldemort due to his fame and so Robards had allowed this one discretion.

As always, there was a queue at the floo. As he always did when it was the end of the working day, Harry found himself dreading the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place. Not even thinking about his actions he slipped out of the line for the floor and into the apparition ports. He glanced over his shoulder once, the voice of Mad-Eye Moody echoing through his memories, _Constant Vigilance_; there was no one suspicious lurking around. Harry snorted to himself at that thought, in the throng of people in the ministry entrance who could say if there was anybody suspicious and it wasn't as if they were going to be holding a big sign proclaiming "I'm suspicious, run away!"

Before he was expecting he was stood in the clear patch of ground that was allowed for apparition. Before he could talk himself out of it Harry pictured the lanes on the outskirts of Dorking and, with a twist and a pop, was stood in the Surrey countryside. It seemed that in no time at all Harry had reached his destination. His began to lead him away and soon he was looking up at the Addison residence and swore to himself. Now that he was here he didn't know what he was thinking. He turned around and walked back down the street. He stopped at the corner, where it turned onto the main road and sighed to himself. _Why do I always have to make things so hard for myself?_ He thought.

Before he could answer a voice called out from a few metres away. "Harry?" His head shot up in surprise. Yvonne was pushing a pram before her as she approached, a smile lighting up her face. "It_ is _you. What are you doing here?" she asked.

Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. "Um, I don't really know." He said.

"Well, you're just in time to accompany me and Pip to the park." She smiled. It slipped slightly at Harry's face, "You don't have to, of course."

At her disappointed tone he conceded. "Sure. The park." With a nervous glance over one shoulder.

"Great."

* * *

><p>They spent an hour in the park. Harry watched Yvonne play with Pip, pushing her on the swings and holding her as she slipped down the slide. It reminded him of Petunia playing with Dudley while he watched on, wishing. But he was no longer bitter about that. The whole time that he was there he felt an uncomfortable tingle down his spine, as if he was being watched, but every time that he looked nobody was there. He knew that he was just being paranoid, who would attack him in Dorking and besides, Voldemort had been defeated and the Death Eaters had been captured; he no longer had to be constantly looking over his shoulder for fear of dark forces.<p>

Eventually Yvonne picked Pip back up and came and sat by Harry on the bench, bouncing her daughter on her knee.

"So do you not work Mondays, then?" She asked to break the silence.

He nodded in response. "So how come you're not in work today then?"

"I was sent home."

"Oh, ok." She said, but did not pry.

Small, chubby hands, suddenly latched onto Harry's trousers. He looked down, shocked, Pip looked up at him with wide, blue eyes. He sat stiffly, unsure of what to do. The next thing he knew the toddler was sat on his lap, Yvonne having removed her arm from around her middle.

"It's ok, Harry, she doesn't bite." He thought sadly of Teddy, who would never know his parents like this.

"I have a Godson, you know." He suddenly blurted out. "He's the same age as Pip."

Harry didn't see as much of Teddy as he felt that he should; he had spent the first year after Voldemorts demise cleaning the world of Death Eaters and the past six months following the same routine as the first. He visited for an hour or two the first Sunday of every month, but never for more than that. Andromeda had said something about wanting Harry to be more involved but not until he had sorted himself out and so they had come to a mutual agreement that visits remain as they were, so as to not distress Teddy. Harry, though, didn't believe that he would ever be sorted out, although Teddy was too young to understand at the moment.

"Yeah; you'll have to introduce the two."

Harry smiled, knowing that this was unlikely to ever happen.

"So is the child of a friend?" She asked.

"Sort of." He said, frowning. "He was my father's friend."

"Was?" She asked, curious.

"He's dead." Harry snapped.

At the horrified look on her face Harry softened, cursing himself. It wasn't something that he even usually admitted out loud. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have snapped, you weren't to know."

"It's ok." She said, frowning at how backwards it was that _she_ was the one apologising. "I'm sorry about that. It was rude of me to ask."

Harry shook his head. "I should be leaving." He sighed. He felt too uncomfortable sat so out in the open; he still felt as if something was going to happen and didn't want Yvonne and Pip to get caught in the cross-fire when it did.

"Oh, if you're sure." Yvonne said, placing Pip back in her pushchair.

"Yeah, I should really get back to Grimmauld Place." He said, in hopes of not seeming too rude.

He walked her back home anyway, before apparating away. Back at Grimmauld Place, sat dejectedly on his bed, the uncomfortable tingle had not disappeared; it was the same feeling he got in the Graveyard after the Third Task, in the Ministry before Sirius arrived and just before the Snatchers caught him and the rest of the trio. It was not a good sign.

In his agitation he decided to floo back to the ministry; if something was going to happen then he had to help in any way that he could, namely in his occupation as an auror. When he flooed into Robards' office the man wasn't in there; rationally Harry knew that he was a very busy man and did not spend the majority of his time in the office, but his absences did nothing to calm Harry's nerve. He swept from the room in search of a colleague. As he was approaching the door to the main office he heard voices, again, this was not a strange occurrence, but Harry's paranoia had hit full force and so he took it as a bad sign.

"There's been a sighting in Surrey-" Robards' voice floated from the room to Harry's ears.

Without even stopping to think Harry flew into action. Within moments he stood in the street at the end of the path leading to his cousin's front door. He could see Yvonne stood in the doorway, Pip balanced on one hip. In front of her was a tall slender man in a set of long black robes. But what Harry noticed was the long, silver blond hair trailing down his back. _Lucius Malfoy_.

"Get away from her!" He shouted, springing forwards a step.

The man pivoted neatly on one foot towards his voice. Harry saw that he had been holding out a sheave of parchment to Yvonne and that her hand was mere inches away. "Accio parchment!" He exclaimed without thinking, his voice still in a shout. As the offending sheet zoomed towards him, one of Malfoy's elegant eyebrows arched and his mouth twitched into a smirk.

As the parchment slammed into his outstretched palm he felt a horrifyingly familiar tug behind his navel before the world contorted, all of the colours blending into one and Dorking was no more.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading, I hope that you enjoyed.<p>

Koosh


	4. Chapter 4

This is just a short one, sorry, guys, made up of annoyingly short scenes, but sometimes that's what's needed.

Disclaimer - I don't own it.

Thank you for the reviews that I got for the previous chapter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

Harry landed with a thump, his breath coming in short bursts; he abhorred travel by portkey and this really was not helping the matter. As he forced his breathing to return to normal he began to take stock of his surroundings, as he knew he should do. He was in a small cell, tiny really, that had bars along one wall. There was no window and no other features. The whole setup was rather cliché, he thought, but then he knew that the Malfoy's lived in an old house and so that maybe this is what was to be expected; after all, the man loved the traditional.

Pulling his wand out he whispered a _Lumos _to light the dark cell. Nothing happened, not even a flicker. He tried a string of other spells; they all had a similar effect, no effect.

He shivered; it was cold in the cell, in the bowels of the manor, no doubt. He recognised the damp chill from when he was there before, even if it was in a different 'room'. Huddling in the corner to retain as much heat as he could, Harry pushed those thoughts from his mind, refusing to think about what had happened when he was here before. He wrapped his arms around his head, hoping to obliterate the screams of Hermione, but knowing that this was impossible, they only existed in his memory.

He was aware of footsteps in what must have been a corridor beyond the cell. There was no light, however, and so he couldn't see if he was right in his assumptions. The cultured voice of Lucius Malfoy drawled out the _Lumos_ that Harry had been unable to cast. _He's mocking me_, Harry thought, but stayed sat dejectedly in the corner.

"Little Harry Potter." His captor said in a mockery of affection and pride, "All grown up."

Harry said nothing, just stared at the grey stone walls of his cell, ignoring Lucius altogether. The temperature seemed to drop as the man scowled. "_Crucio_." He hissed. Harry's body jerked away from the wall as he writhed on the floor.

"Bringing out the big boy guns are you?" Harry remarked once he had regained his breath. He doubted that the man even knew what a gun was, but he could certainly tell when he was being insulted, and his countenance suggested that he was certainly aware of that at the moment. This time, however, he didn't rise to the bait.

"Why've you brought me here?" Harry asked instead.

"I didn't. You took the portkey."

"Well it's obvious that you were after me."

"My, my, such high opinions of himself our young _hero_ has."

"What do you want, Lucius." He sneered, in his best imitation of Professor Snape.

"I'm going to be the next Dark Lord," he said, his eyes sparkling menacingly "And I'm going to start by making a point of you."

Harry snorted. "Didn't learn after the fall of the last fool, your _Master_?"

"Once I'm rid of you I won't have that problem."

"Go on then." He said, "Do me in."

At this Lucius did smile. "Oh no; I like to play with my food before eating it." He said.

"_Crucio!"_

* * *

><p>Yvonne shrieked when Harry disappeared.<p>

"What did you do?" She demanded. But the intimidating man didn't say anything before he too, disappeared with a pop.

"Mum!" She shouted running back into the house. "Mum!"

No sooner was she off the street then a man in auror robes swept around the corner. He took in every inch of the street but, seeing nothing suspicious, no Death Eaters, nothing that shouldn't have been there, he turned on his heel and was gone.

* * *

><p>"I didn't find anybody in Dorking." Williamson said as he entered the main office at Headquarters.<p>

Robards rubbed a hand over his tired face. "Once the effects of the _Imperius_ have worn of the muggle then we can interview him about if he can remember anything; if not then we can ask around, talk to the locals. We'll give him until tomorrow."

Williamson nodded and returned to the paperwork he had been doing before the call announcing the use of an Unforgivable had come through.

* * *

><p>Harry hurt. Harry hurt everywhere. He hadn't experienced such agony since before the defeat of Voldemort. Lucius had left him for now, but he knew that he would come back eventually. He did not know what time it was, or for how long he had been in the cell for, as there was no way of telling time and there was something about being tortured that made time move significantly slower. It hurt to move; it hurt to breathe. His vision was blurry where his glasses had smashed, leaving bits of glass embedded in his face, and there was black creeping in the edge of his vision.<p>

With a shudder Harry passed out

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?" Dudley asked again, his hands firm on Yvonne's quivering shoulders.<p>

"Yes," she said exasperatedly. "He just disappeared."

"Well, there's a lot we don't know about magic. It was probably just some kind of transport. We'll phone him and make sure that he's ok."

"Yes but the man was trying to give it to me. And Harry really didn't seem to be happy that he was there."

"I'm sure that he is fine. Harry wouldn't have touched the paper if he knew it was dangerous." It was her dad this time, his comforting voice washing over her, like it had when she was still a child.

"But what if he didn't know!" She exclaimed, frustrated that nobody seemed to understand. They hadn't seen the look on the man's face before he had disappeared. It was not one that she wanted to see again.

"As Dudley said, we'll phone him and make sure that he's ok."

Although she didn't seem convinced, Yvonne let the matter drop.

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy had paid Harry another visit. The bones along the left side of his body where broken and there was blood caked on his face from a cut to his head. Lucius had cast a curse before he had left; he'd rolled out of the way, but felt the wash off dark magic over his crushed leg nonetheless. There was an emptiness to his stomach that came from being hungry, but that he could ignore; he'd grown up being hungry after all.<p>

He just hoped that he could work his way out of this one soon.

* * *

><p>I hope that you enjoyed it.<p>

Koosh


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer - I do not own the world of Harry Potter.

Author's note: This one is made up of short scenes, sorry about that.

And to **AskingForAnUpdate**; your review really motivated me to get this done, thank you so much. And no, I'm not turning my back on this, I had a lot of work to do. (essays and exams) but here it is! I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

Williamson swept into the main office the next morning. "Did our witness remember anybody?" It was still relatively early in the morning, but he wanted to get this case solved; it wasn't everyday someone used an Unforgivable and his curiosity wanted to know who it was.

"No." Robards answered.

With a decisive nod he swept back out of the office to head to Dorking where he would question the locals over whether they saw anything.

* * *

><p>"How are you doing, Harry?" Lucius said, his voice soft and caring. Harry cracked his eyes open a crack.<p>

"You're not fooling anyone." He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as it was hard to get any oxygen into his lungs.

The man chuckled. "You never did lose that Gryffindor spirit." He was drawling now. "But it won't serve you well here."

"That's what you thought last time, I'm sure." He said, fighting back in the only way he could.

"Ahh, and just where did it get your precious little Mudblood friend." Harry winced as his heart froze at the sneered words. _Hermione_. No, he would not think of that. It was too painful.

"I'm sure you didn't come here for my pleasant conversation." Harry said; anything to avoid thinking of his friends, the only family that he had known.

"And for my next trick…" the man trailed off mocking. "I thought that I'd do this one for Draco, you do remember what you did to precious Draco, don't you?" Before Harry could comment the man shouted an incantation. "_Sectumsempra!"_

As Harry felt his skin tearing apart he felt not the pain that he imagined Lucius had expected and intended, that was a dull throb at the back of his mind, he felt a deep rooted sadness as the spell reminded him of Severus Snape who to this day, remained the bravest man he'd ever known, even if he did not know it while the man was alive. _"What is right…" _he whispered to himself, remembering the words that Dumbledore had uttered years before and how accurately they applied to Snape. And how for a while, he hadn't believed that, had tarnished Snape's memory by not believing in him until it was too late.

He could feel the blood beginning to pool beneath him and knew that it wasn't a good sign, but right now he just didn't care. Lucius was speaking again, from his spot just outside of the tiny cell, but Harry did not hear a word he uttered, just the gushing in his ears and the throbbing in his head.

He took a shuddering breath, pain shooting through his chest at the movement, in an attempt to clear his head.

"-finish the work of my old master…" he heard, before the voice faded back out again.

Dumbledore flashed to mind again, his wrinkled visage kind and soft, as it had been the last time he'd seen the man; _It is important to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated._

To fight, he thought to himself, closer to the eradication, as Dumbledore would have wanted. He twitched his right arm; it hurt to move, but move he could. Using his arm as a lever, he pulled himself along the floor. He twitched forwards an inch but that was all he managed. He cracked an eye open, not aware that he had even closed it; the blob that was Lucius hadn't moved so he figured that the man had not noticed his movement. Inch by painful inch he moved forwards until his arm brushed against the wall. Opening an eye he could see that his index finger had just passed the threshold of the door.

"_Stupefy_." He whispered and watched in satisfaction as Lucius' body plummeted to the floor. Finally he gave in to the darkness and the blissful peace of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>There was no answer on the other end of the phone. They had phoned five times since Harry had disappeared and each time there had been no answer, it was now five in the afternoon and he had been missing for over twenty-four hours.<p>

"I'm going to take Pip for a walk." Yvonne said with a sigh, gesturing to Pip who was fussing miserably on the floor at her feet.

It didn't take her long to grab the bag she took on outings and have her daughter in the pram, and she headed out to the park again, as she had yesterday with Harry, before he had gone missing. Philipa was still grumbling grouchily, it was as if she was aware of the tension of everybody else in the house. As she was pushing Pippa on the swings her heart wasn't really in it, she kept seeing Harry sat on the bench, he had been quiet, not that she expected anything else from the little she knew of him, but he had seemed jumpy too and she wondered why.

She'd been in the park for ten minutes when a man in a smart, crisp suit marched up to her.

"Excuse me ma'am?" He said politely. "Could I have a moment of your time please?"

She nodded, frowning. "I'm Williamson and I'm with the police and I was wondering if you might have seen anybody acting strange yesterday, out of character, or if you saw anybody suspicious; somebody not from 'round here, or acting odd; maybe they were wearing weird clothes."

He rattled off the list and instantly the image of the blond man sprang to her mind. She nodded. "He was tall and thin and had long, blonde hair, like, really long." She began, gesturing to her mid-back, she felt a spark of hope when the man frowned as if deep in thought. "He wasn't a muggle, was he?" She asked, using the word that she remembered Harry using, but that she knew would just seem vague and like gibberish to somebody if she were wrong.

His brow furrowed more. "No. Can you tell me what you know?"

"I don't know much; I only found out about magic a few days ago, my partner's cousin is a wizard and my daughter is a witch, they just broke the news to me." She knew that she was rambling, the man did not need to know all of this, but she was just so confused by everything. "I don't know who the man was, he tried to give me a letter for Harry, that's Dudley's cousin, when Harry arrived. He shouted something, he didn't seem very happy at the man's presence, and then said _ac_," she frowned, unable to pronounce the strange word.

"_Accio_?" the man asked.

"Yeah, that, and then caught the letter. But he disappeared the moment he touched it and then so did the man, the blonde one." All of this was said in a gush. "Is Harry going to be ok?"

"Harry?" Williamson asked, frowning again.

"Yeah, my cousin-in-law." She said, unaware of the significance of this.

"Harry Potter?" The man asked, "About yay high," he gestured with a hand "Skinny, black hair."

"Yeah." The man cursed, causing her to shy back.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for of me. Thank you for your time, your help has been invaluable."

"Harry will be ok, wont he, we haven't been able to get hold of him."

"I'm sure he will be," Williamson said smiling, although it failed to reach his eyes.

"You'll contact us, as soon as you find him." She could tell that it was bad news. He nodded once, so she gave him their address and telephone number, he nodded again before turning on the spot and leaving her in confusion, Pippa tugging on a strand of her hair in frustration.

* * *

><p>Williamson sped down the corridor to Robards' office. "Sir it's Malfoy and he's got Harry." He blurted, out of breath.<p>

There were two people in the office though, Robards was behind his desk, a man in purple robes stood before it. Williamson blushed as the man turned around. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic; he had just rudely interrupted a meeting with the _Minister_.

But the man was not angry. "Harry?" He asked, his voice concerned as his brow furrowed.

"Yes, Sir. His cousin's wife told me, said a tall man with long blond hair tried to give her a letter but Harry accio'd it away and disappeared. It must have been a portkey."

Shacklebolt frowned "Harry's cousin, I believe they don't get along." Williamson just shrugged in response.

Robards stood from his desk, sending a patronus out to those on call. "I want to come with you." Shacklbolt said fiercely.

Robards faltered. "Sir…" he trailed off, he couldn't argue with the Minister, even if they were old acquaintances, but this really was not a good idea.

Kingsley sighed. "No, I know. Just take him to Poppy," He said, at Robards' blank look he added "The Hogwarts infirmary. Please." At his frown he said "Please, just do it. He'll be much easier to handle." He added wryly. Harry wasn't exactly known for his cooperation when it came to medical treatment.

Robards agreed before heading to the main office where the aurors on duty had assembled.

"We have reason to believe that it was Lucius Malfoy that cast the _Imperius_ _Curse_ yesterday afternoon." Heads nodded grimly, this made matters easier as they already knew where his main residence was and so where to start their search. "The thing is, we also have reason to believe that he has Potter." There was silence across the room.

"We're going to start at the Manor in Wiltshire" they knew of its location as they had searched it after the downfall of Voldemort "And if he's not there then we'll search for clues from there." He split those in the office into three groups of three and they headed out. It was a lot of people for one operation, but he knew that Malfoy could be dangerous. He'd been released without charge after his defection in the final battle, but he knew that Harry hadn't contested his innocence and what the Death Eaters had once been able to do. He trusted no less people than the nine that he was taking.

The group apparated to the outskirts of the large property, cast disillusionment charms and, splitting up, slipped closer to the manor.

It was Williamson's group that eventually found them. He saw Malfoy first, his body crumpled in a manner that he knew was due to being _stupefied_. As his gaze travelled he caught sight of Harry. His arm was stretched out, as if he'd been reaching for something. His skin was grey and there was a pool of blood, black in the flickering torchlight, caked on the cold stone floor. He abruptly sent a patronus off to the other groups and cast restraints around Malfoy, in case he came to before they could transport him to a ministry holding cell.

The other two groups slid to a halt next to him and stared down at Harry; the boy was an excellent auror and frequently ended up injured, he always put himself into the dangerous situations or took a spell meant for another, but they had never seen him like this, looking so small and battered. After all, he was the Saviour, he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Get Malfoy in a holding cell." He ordered, "I'm taking Potter to Hogwarts."

With that he laid a portkey on Harry's chest, his hand clutching it too and disappeared with a pop.

* * *

><p>He landed in the same position on the floor of the Hospital wing at Hogwarts. There was a gasp and the school nurse, Madame Pomfrey, he remembered from his own school days, hurried over to them, dropping the pile of sheets that she had been carrying.<p>

"Move away." She snapped, brandishing her wand. She levitated Harry, for she could see now that it was Harry, over to a bed and began to cast diagnostic spells.

Robards sighed and sat himself in a chair by the bed opposite Harrys; he would return to the office and his paperwork there later, after he knew that Harry was ok.

* * *

><p>Williamson returned to the ministry with the rest of the aurors but instead of joining them in the main office he went straight to Robards office to use his floo. He crouched down and threw some of the powder in before shouting into the bright green flames "Headmistress' Office, Hogwarts."<p>

"Good afternoon?" Professor McGonagall asked from her desk.

"Auror Williamson, Ma'am, may I please floo through?"

"Of course." She said. A tall man whose long hair was pulled back into a pony-tail stepped smoothly from the fireplace. "Can I help you?" She asked politely.

"It's Harry Potter, Headmistress." He began. He was cut off when she stood up abruptly.

"Is he ok?"

"I couldn't say for sure, I'm afraid. Auror Robards brought him to Hospital Wing here on the orders of Minister Shacklebolt; I was wondering if I could bring Harry's muggle family here?" He asked, having promised the lady he had met earlier that day that he wouldn't forget her.

"Harry's muggle family?" She asked frowning, "He doesn't get along with his family."

"I don't know anything about that, ma'am, but I was asked by his cousins wife to keep them informed; she said he'd broken the news about her daughter being a witch."

"Here." McGonagall rummaged about in her desk, before pulling out a black feather. "Take this portkey, it'll take them straight to the hospital wing."

"Thank you ma'am." He said flooing away.

* * *

><p>Yvonne couldn't sit still. She had made a cup of tea, watered the garden, washed the windows in the sitting room and, now that she was sat down, her left knee was bobbing up and down with suppressed energy. Dudley had come home a few minutes ago, after she had phoned him at his work and was sat just as awkwardly next to her. Her mum was sat playing with Pip, also trying to distract herself from thoughts of Harry. They all jumped as a knock came at the door, disturbing the tense silence of the room. She leaped to her feet and hurried to the door. On the doorstep was the same man as before, this time in a set of long, black robes. At least she thought that they must be robes.<p>

"Is he ok?" She blurted out, without even saying hello.

He scratched the back of his head nervously. "I really couldn't say; he wasn't in the best of states when we found him, but we found him, that's what matters and he's with the healer now. I can take you to see him."

She let out the breath that she had been holding, but didn't allow herself to relax yet. "Thank you." She said sincerely "We'll be right there."

In a few minutes the Addison family, or those that were there at the moment, had gathered in the hallway. Williamson was holding out a black feather, while they all looked on in bemusement. "If you touch it, it'll take us straight to the Hospital Wing. It'll be uncomfortable, but the feeling will not last. Whatever you do, do not let go until we have landed."

Nervously they followed his instructions. He pulled out his wand and tapped the feather. They all experienced the same uncomfortable tug behind their navel before the world blended into a multitude of different colours.

It was with a thud that a now shaky Yvonne landed on the cold floor of a sterile smelling room. As the world righted itself again she could hear three frantic voices coming from the far end of what appeared to be a ward, as it was lined with uniform beds with crisp, white sheets. As one they moved towards the voices, guessing correctly that this would be where Harry was.

"There's not much more that I can do right now." A woman with silver hair pulled back into a tight bun said.

"What do you mean 'nothing more you can do' you can't just leave him in this state."

"I said right now, Minerva" her voice, though firm, was soft "I can't give him anymore potions or they could have seriously adverse effects. We'll start again tomorrow."

"What was the damage?" the third figure, from the tall man stood a little to the side of the two women asked. Yvonne, Dudley and Susan all stepped closer to find out the answer to what they too had been wondering.

"The entire left side of his body was crushed, the bones shattered and the organs suffered significant damage; there's a number of deep abrasions and so some major blood loss, missing fingers on his right hand, extensive use of the _Cruciatus Curse_, and evidence of other dark magic that I've been unable as of yet to identify."

Yvonne didn't know what most of that meant but she got the sense that it was bad; indeed the part of Harry that she could see looked to be in extremely bad shape.

"Is he going to be ok?" She asked, stepping forwards once they had stopped talking.

The woman on the left, Minerva she thought, turned around. She looked at Dudley, not Yvonne, a steely, hard look in her green eyes, but they softened when she saw Pip, balanced on his hip and the look in his eyes as he spoke to her.

"He'll live." Was all she said.

"That doesn't really answer the question."

"It's not going to be an immediate recovery, but he will be ok. I've stabilised his struggling organs and prevented any further damage to them and replenished his blood and body fluids, I've sealed the abrasions and given him skelegrow to mend the broken bones. He's lost the first two fingers on his right hand, I don't think there's anything that we'll be able to about that, as if you leave it too long potions and magic have no effect but I can't give him anything for it now, for the same reason I've not given him anything for the after effects of the _Cruciatus_. We also could not use Essence of Dittany on his cuts so there's a very good chance that they'll scar. His bones seem to be mending as they should, but I've seen little change in the state of his leg. We'll have to wait 'til later to know about that."

"Can we stay with him?" Dudley asked, chewing nervously on his lip.

The woman that Yvonne guessed was the medic looked questioningly at the other, who nodded minutely. "Feel free to sit with him, but he shouldn't wake until at least tomorrow afternoon." She said, before adding almost to herself "Then again, this is Harry we're talking about."

Minerva snorted at that.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked, frowning slightly.

"This is Harry." She said, shrugging her shoulders as if that explained everything "He never follows the norms; after all, he did survive the unsurvivable." She answered cryptically and swept from the room, saying something about seeing to the students and promising to return soon.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading. Reviews seriously motivate me, especially at this busy time of exams, just dropping it in there :P<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

To those of you that asked, I'm so sorry that this took so long to get out. In all honestly it's just because I'm lazy; I had computer problems, and work to do, but mostly I'm just lazy. :/

But anyway, here it is, chapter 6. I shall endeavour to be quicker with the next one; much quicker!

TheMightyKoosh

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

They had been sat beside Harry's bed, watching his skinny chest as it barely rose and fell, for several hours, barely even talking to pass the time. It was now very early in the morning the day after they had been taken to this strange, empty hospital to wait for a sign that Harry was ok. The silence of the room was suddenly broken by a gasp from the bed, but when Yvonne jumped up and looked down at the prone form of her cousin-in-law, his eyes were still closed and he had not moved at all.

Dudley leaned forwards and clasped his cousin's hand. "Go and get someone." He said to Yvonne, and brushed a strand of hair out of Harry's face. She hurried away and returned with the aging lady with grey hair in a bun, Madam Pomfrey, she thought she remembered. As she returned she heard Dudley talking, where he was still bent over Harry. "Harry, can you hear me, Harry. How do you feel?"

Pomfrey bustled up to the bed and began waving her wand about briskly. "I could see his eyes moving beneath their lids." Dudley said as he moved out of the way of the nurse.

"It's ok Harry," She said in her soft voice, once her wand had stopped waving, "You're safe now, you can open your eyes." She stroked hair back from his face, just as Dudley had been doing before.

And then brilliant green eyes were staring up at her. He hadn't even moved, not a twitch, but he was staring at her solemnly. "Welcome back, Mister Potter. Although I didn't expect to be seeing you here again." There was firmness to her voice.

"Why Hogwarts?" He asked, using as few words as he could.

She smiled at him softly, sadly, "The minister knows you well, Harry." He nodded once, before closing his eyes again. "How do you feel, Harry?" She asked, knowing that it was a stupid question, him having just been tortured, but also knowing that he would not give her a straight answer.

"Fine." He responded raspily. "Is Yvonne ok?" He asked, to the young woman's surprise, shocking her that he would ask such a thing when he himself was so far from ok.

"No you're not." She said sadly, "And yes she is. But you're going to be very poorly for a while, young man." He just closed his eyes again, breathing deeply. She could tell from the tension on his forehead that he was in pain, but knew, after the multitude of times that he had been in her care, that he would not say anything. "Here, drink this." She said, handing him a phial of pain-reliever and knowing that she was right when the frown lines smoothed out and there was a gentle sigh of relief. Yvonne was surprised with the familiarity between Harry and the nurse.

"Go on then, what's the damage?" He finally asked, opening his eyes again.

Pomfrey sighed heavily. "Over exposure to the Cruciatus curse, on top of what you've experienced in the past, it's going to take a while for you to get over it, you had lots of abrasions that are very like to scar, and you lost two fingers on your right hand. There was some serious damage done to your internal organs, I stabilised them and prevented any further damage, but you're going to need more potions before they'll be fully healed, so you're going to have to be careful. The bones on the left side of your body were entirely crushed, so you've been on skelegrow all night, you're leg however has not healed, and the hip seems to be getting worse." She rattled it all of rapidly and matter of factly, knowing that it was always worse to keep things from Harry. "You've got a long road of recovery ahead of you, Harry."

He sighed heavily "Bummer." Pomfrey snorted in response. "Can I have some water please?" He eventually asked.

She jumped into action, surprised with herself that she had not even thought about how thirsty the poor boy must be. She waved her wand and summoned a glass of water with a straw which she held by his mouth. Harry frowned at her and shook his head. With a painful looking shuffle he got his arm behind himself and began pushing himself into an upright position. His left arm, the one that had been shattered, shook and quivered violently at the pressure before collapsing beneath him, his frame falling back onto the bed as it did so.

"You imbibed a lot of potions last night, that means that they are less effective, so the bones in your arm are not quite healed yet." Pomfrey clucked.

Dudley stepped forwards to his cousin and hooked his hands under Harry's arms to hoist him up into a sitting position, Yvonne placing pillows behind him to lean against, so that he would be comfortable while he drank his fill. Harry jumped when he caught sight of them, having not noticed their presence without his glasses on.

"Dudley?" He asked, as he settled back against the pillows, nodding slightly in thanks to Yvonne.

"Hey Harry." Dudley said, his voice quiet in the hush of the infirmary.

Harry was saved from having to say anything as Pomfrey thrust the glass into his hand and he took a grateful drink of the water, soothing his parched throat. But his hand shook too much from having to hold the glass, the muscles in his hand spasming as he moved it, and he dropped the glass, spilling cool water across his lap, much to his humiliation. Pomfrey cleaned it away with a wave of her wand and summoned another glass, which she held to his lips for him to drink from. But he just shook his head and leaned back into the pillows. "I was finished anyway." He said. But she knew that he hadn't, was just too stubborn to accept any help; that he hated being seen so vulnerable.

"So what are you guys doing here?" Harry asked.

"We were worried about you." Dudley answered, before Yvonne chimed in too.

"I knew something wasn't right when you disappeared." She said, a note of hysteria in her voice, "And then your colleague was asking questions and they hadn't even known that you'd gone, and we told him to tell us when they found you, oh we were so worried, and then he brought us here, with a feather. What was that thing, that that man was trying to give me?" She spoke quickly, all of the worry from the past two days falling off her in a wave.

"A portkey." Harry said, his voice still weak, even after the drink of water, "It transports you to a pre-set destination. I hate them. That's probably what brought you here as well. Did it feel like a hook behind the navel?" He asked. She nodded. "I hate them." He mumbled again, his mind beginning to wander.

Pomfrey, who had wandered away while they spoke, came bustling back over with an armful of potions. "I want you to drink these for me, Harry, and then get some sleep."

"When can I leave?" He asked, after taking the phials but before drinking them.

"Not for a while yet, Harry, I want to make sure all of your bones and organs are healed first, and there's still evidence of dark magic that we haven't worked out what it is yet."

He did not reply, but just drank the potions, falling asleep almost immediately after.

* * *

><p>Dudley and Yvonne stayed by Harry's bedside for all of that day, waiting for him to wake up again. John and Susan were looking after Pippa and had said that they would return the next day with her to see how Harry was. A couple of people, teachers that worked at the school, as they learnt that they were at Hogwarts, had come in to see how the young man was. They were surprised at how much affection they all had for him, each saying a few soft words for him, most of them stroking his hair out of his face before bustling away again.<p>

The teachers that taught in the school were an eclectic mix of people, all dressed in flowing robes. The first was the headmistress, who had introduced herself as Minerva McGonagall, with a brisk hand shake. Her grey hair was pulled back into a severe bun and she looked stern and quite intimidating for all her age. But when she turned to Harry, her face softened perceptibly and she stroked his pallid face. "I never expected to see you back in here, Harry, especially not as a patient." She had whispered, slightly disapprovingly, before straightening up and sweeping from the hospital wing with a brisk nod in their direction.

This had been followed by a man who was positively massive. He towered over anybody that Yvonne had ever met before, having to duck slightly in order to get his ginormous frame through the door. He had bushy black hair that was as tangled as the bird's nest of hair on his head. Dudley had blanched slightly as the man had come in, much to Yvonne's confusion, but neither one had said anything to the other. In fact the man had eyes only for Harry.

"Harry!" He had wailed, making a bee-line to the bed, where he had grasped one of his lifeless hands in his own dustbin sized one. "Oh Harry." He had sobbed into his chest, before delving into one of the many pockets of his duffle coat and pulling out a card with _'Get wel sooon, Harry'_ scrawled across it in childish handwriting and a box of what looked like rock cakes. He had left with a sniffle when Madam Pomfrey had pointed out that if he kept on wailing then he would wake up Harry, who needed sleep to recover.

After Hagrid, as they had learnt his name to be, a man who was shockingly small followed, especially when compared to the size of Hagrid. He had politely introduced himself as Filius Flitwick, the charms professor, whatever that was, before setting a box of shortbread on the bedside table beside the rock cakes, which he smiled at gently, before murmuring to Harry to get well soon and shuffling away as well.

The next visitor had completely ignored them, just placed a bouquet of flowers down, muttered something about a fish called Francis and left them to their bedside vigil. By this point Susan and John had returned, having left Pip in the capable care of Michael and his wife, both worried to see what kind of a state Harry would be in.

Now Headmistress McGonagall was back, sat with them beside Harry, simply watching him as he slept.

Yvonne eventually broke the uncomfortable silence. "Shouldn't he have woken up by now?" she asked.

"No." McGonagall replied. "He shouldn't have woken up in the first place, not until now anyway, but he did, because it's Harry," there it was again, Yvonne frowned, "and that probably wore him out. What with all the potions Poppy undoubtedly has him on, he'll sleep right through now, probably, but you never know. Either way I wouldn't worry." There was a pause as she gazed at his immobile face. "Harry's a survivor. Lucius sodding Malfoy isn't going to do him in."

Yvonne was taken aback at the vicious way she spat out the word, surprised to hear it pass her lips.

"Believe me, with the amount of skelegrow I have him on, he wants to be asleep."

Yvonne jumped as Pomfrey appeared behind her. She waved her wand again and although nothing visibly happened, she seemed to be getting some information from Harry. She swore, again surprising Yvonne, before pocketing her wand with a frown.

At McGonagall's questioning glance she explained "The skelegrow isn't working, the bones that I mended last night are broken again and his hip and leg are still shattered. I'm going to give him more skelegrow and see if it does anything but could you please contact Robards." She ordered the Headmistress.

"Robards?" She asked, arching an eyebrow "He's probably busy with Lucius, why don't I get Williamson instead?"

"No, there's a reason that Robards is head of the Auror department, he's the best, the most experienced that there is. Heck, I'd rather consult Shacklebolt but I think that a bit unlikely. I want Robards."

Minerva simply nodded at her friend before flooing for Robards from the fireplace in Poppy's office. In the meantime Pomfrey poured a goblet of skelegrow down Harry's throat, waving her wand to help it along. When she returned she was tailed by a tall, thin man with thick, chocolate brown hair and an unassuming face, the kind of which one would forget very quickly.

"Oh Harry." He said when he caught sight of the boy. It seemed that he was yet another to add to the list of people that seemed to care for Harry.

"Auror Robards, sir, thank you for coming through so quickly on such short notice."

"Not a problem. What exactly is it that I can do to help?" He asked politely.

"I've given Harry a lot of skelegrow, more than I probably should have, but I had to do something, but his bones just aren't healing. They were crushed all along the left hand side of his body, they heal for a while, starting at the top and working their way down, but once it starts working on his leg the entire thing begins to shatter again. There's also evidence of unidentified dark magic that I think has something to do with it. Is there anything you know about this?" She was wringing her hands together and Yvonne and Dudley could see just how worried she was.

Robards sighed heavily before pulling out his wand and waving it about with a murmured string of words that were indecipherable to Yvonne. He rubbed at his forehead tiredly.

"You know it?" Pomfrey asked.

"Aye, I've seen it before. It's the same curse that Moody was hit with. It'll keep shattering all of his bones and it'll spread beyond these, eventually killing him in a very painful manner; or killing him of an eventual overdose of skelegrow."

"How can we get rid of it, then?"

"You can't. Or rather, not exactly. When it's at its weakest, just after you've given him skelegrow, you've gotta chop of the limb that it's infecting. That's the only way to get rid of it."

All of those in the hospital wing listening at that time, even those that did not know Harry as well as the others, felt their stomachs plummet to their feet at this news. They were going to have to amputate Harry's left leg.


End file.
